


Progression

by thedevilchicken



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Drabble Sequence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-28
Updated: 2008-11-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick's relationship with Bruce has progressed over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progression

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal on 28 November 2008 for a drabble challenge. The theme was _music_.

13\. 

Dick loves life at the manor. Mostly. 

Haley's was different, training, chores, but not like this. No chores here, just homework, Alfred to see it's done. Here he learns to fight instead of fly, but that's art too. 

There's chess for his mind, books on top of study. Bruce isn't like a father, doesn't try to be and Dick's grateful. They don't pretend this is the life he was supposed to have. 

Sometimes, Bruce plays the piano. Dick listens, strays into the room. It sounds so sad. 

“Teach me,” he says. 

Bruce nods. Dick learns Bruce will give him anything. 

\---

15.

He hears the party – music, guests' laughter. In his room, knowing downstairs there's champagne, so many people, makes it tough to study. He tries, fails. 

Stealth's easy now he's trained; he peeks into the ballroom, sees Bruce dancing. It's not the man Dick knows in that tuxedo but he understands. Bruce keeps secrets well. 

He sneaks back upstairs, disappointed. He wants to be down there, Alfred's _soon_ of consolation not enough. Then, the music dies. Bruce, bowtie loosened, comes to his door. 

“Let's go, Robin,” Bruce says, smiling faintly. 

Dick wouldn't trade this for all the parties in the world. 

\---

17.

The box has been on Bruce's dresser since before Dick arrived. He knows what it is. 

He opened it, years ago, heard the song but couldn't place it. Bruce played it himself sometimes, thinking he was alone; Dick saw, rough fingers soft on the piano's keys. Beethoven. These days he knows the piece. 

They had differences – easy to see, not so easy to resolve. Bruce is his mentor but he holds him back, says it's for the best but Dick isn't so sure. He leaves. 

The box was Bruce's mother's. Sometimes Dick thinks Bruce loves their memory more than him. 

\---

21.

The first person Dick loved but oughtn't was Bruce. 

He has all along, that's what makes it so painful. He's longed for approval though nothing like a child, buried hopes in ill-conceived affairs. What they have's a fragile duet like ones they used to play, skills uneven though in this Dick has the talent. 

He surprises Bruce in his study, footsteps masked by classic rock. Fingers tuck under suspenders, tug him close into a kiss; he doesn't resist. He stays close.

“We shouldn't,” Bruce tells him. “I can't.” But he's holding him anyway.

Dick smiles. “I'll teach you,” he says.

\---

26.

Tim freaked at first then started teasing; Alfred simply raised a brow. Clark might have blushed, predictably. Roy laughed; Wally snickered. Barbara wasn't surprised. 

They share an opera box; Dick wonders if Bruce's hand brushing his counts as public affection. Either way's not important. Amongst friends they're a poorly-kept secret – public's irrelevant.

Back to the manor – not his home but he has a key. He sings in the shower, badly, deliberate. Bruce joins him, disapproval just affected; the singing's stopped by hands brushing hips, lips at his throat. They kiss. They don't make it to bed.

Sometimes silence is best.


End file.
